


Safety Measures on Airships (or, why you don't fly something that's broken)

by airgeer



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Steampunk, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-08
Updated: 2012-10-08
Packaged: 2017-11-15 22:31:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/532484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airgeer/pseuds/airgeer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt was just looking for a friend. He found murder, intrigue, explosions and Blaine. A steampunk AU that is not very steampunky at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safety Measures on Airships (or, why you don't fly something that's broken)

Kurt climbed up the stout ivy trailing down the outside of the menagerie walls, wrapping his hands around the plant at the top of the wall to keep himself from tumbling down again. He hadn’t been in this city long, but he’d already found his favourite part of it. A low growl came from below, and he peered down into the midnight dark to see the leopard he’d been visiting every night for the last week.

 

“Hey there,” he cooed, tossing down the jerkied beef he’d stuffed into his pocket. “How are you tonight, leopard David Martinez? Who embodies the grace and beauty of human David Martinez? Who does? Is it you?” The leopard rumbled again, in what Kurt could only assume was friendship. He hadn’t been eaten yet, at least. That counted for  _something_  when dealing with large animals that came equipped with larger claws.

 

Kurt squirmed over the top of the wall, keeping a low profile in case the palace guards happened to glance over and see him silhouetted against the night sky. He wasn’t  _strictly_  supposed to be there, but it wasn’t like he was hurting anyone. He shimmied down the ivy on the other side, scratching at leopard David Martinez’s neck when he headbutted Kurt in the thigh demandingly.

 

“Aw, do you want to run away with me, leopard David Martinez? I bet you do. You can be my loyal animal companion when I’m rich and famous. I’ll probably have to change your name though, since human David Martinez might not appreciate the tribute.” Leopard David Martinez mouthed at Kurt’s arm, tugging at the sleeve of his jacket. Kurt delicately pulled his arm away. “You know better than to drool on my clothes, leopard David Martinez, we’ve been over this.”

 

“You don’t belong here,” a new voice said. Kurt yelped in surprise, whirling around and reaching for his tool pouch. He had various screwdrivers in there that could double as weapons in a pinch, loath as he was to risk damage to his father’s parting gifts. Leopard David Martinez twitched, but was otherwise calm, and the face of a boy about his age came in focus as a figure approached out of the gloom.

 

Kurt straightened his back. “Yes I do,” he lied. “I am absolutely supposed to be here. I’m the...um...the night animal keeper.”

 

“No you aren’t,” the boy said, white teeth flashing in the dim light as he grinned. “I’ve seen you sneak in here every night for the last five over that wall to pet Spotty. You’re not one of the keepers.”

 

“Yes, I- wait, Spotty?” Kurt tried to keep his voice down, he did, but his indignation betrayed him and his voice carried over the still night air.

 

“Shh!” the boy hissed. “I’m supposed to be in my quarters, and you’re supposed to be...well, not here. You’d probably get a year in prison for breaking in here.”

 

“ _What?!_ ” This time, the boy elected to clamp his hand over Kurt’s face to silence him. Leopard David Martinez growled warningly, but the boy kept his grip.

 

“You don’t dress like you’re from around here,” the boy observed. “Are you a traveler? Do you not know where you are, or something?” Kurt tried to speak,  _of course_  he knew where he was, don’t be ridiculous, and please take your hand off my face, I am having trouble breathing, but the boy simply leaned in and said, “You’re in  _Arnos_.”

 

Kurt’s heart skipped a beat and his stomach dropped to his feet. “Are you kidding?” the boy hissed, apparently correctly interpreting his sudden and obvious terror as evidence that he hadn’t actually known where he was. “How do you come here and not know where you are? It’s the worst place in the world, and it’s only getting worse.”

 

He finally pulled his hand off of Kurt’s face, and Kurt busied himself with sucking air back into his lungs. “Why did you watch me for so long if you knew I was in danger?” Kurt accused. “And if you hate it here so much, why are  _you_  here?”

 

“I didn’t think you’d come back! And then you did, and I figured you were just really brave, but then you kept coming and I only  _just_ realized that you might not know what you were doing! And I’m only here because my stupid city is opening negotiations with Arnos, who is a  _total dick_  by the way, and the academy I attend requires diplomatic experience. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but you need to  _go, now_ , or you will be in for it.”

 

Kurt cast one last mournful, covetous glance at leopard David Martinez and patted him on the head. “Bye, leopard David Martinez,” he whispered, turning about to scale the wall again. “It wasn’t meant to be.”

 

Another voice, deep and confident, echoed through the menagerie suddenly, and Kurt froze where he stood. He slowly turned his head to look at the other boy, who stared back at him wide-eyed and mouthed, “ _Arnos_.” Kurt released the ivy silently and turned around, pressing himself against the cool wall. The boy followed his example, similarly trying to obscure himself in the trailing ivy.

 

“My lord,” a woman’s voice said. The boy tensed beside him even further, and Kurt stole a glance over at him. “Why did you call me out here at this late hour? You claimed that it was urgent, and yet we are in your menagerie?”

 

“It is urgent,” a man’s smooth voice said. The Lord Arnos, Kurt assumed. “Negotiations are not proceeding as I had hoped. Your skills at representing your lord are certainly partially to blame for this. I need more time to prepare, and a less talented negotiator to do battle with, and I am about to gain both.”

 

The woman drew in a breath, as if to scream, only to release it a second later in a weak and pained sigh. “I apologize for the agony you are experiencing,” Lord Arnos said. “But this must appear to be an accident, and venomous bites happen, sometimes. You should not have been in the menagerie at night. It’s dangerous.”

 

Kurt’s breath was coming faster, but he fought to keep it quiet. They were witnessing a murder, he knew, and they could easily be next if they revealed themselves. He had to control himself.

 

The other boy was the one to give them away, though, letting out his breath in a tiny sob when the sounds of the woman’s laboured breathing slowed and stopped. “Who’s there?!” Lord Arnos demanded sharply. “Show yourself!”

 

They were surely doomed, but Kurt had no intention of ever letting someone do as they liked to him again, and he wasn’t about to lie down and die. Kurt gripped the boy’s arm tightly. “Up the wall, over, and run. Follow my lead.”

 

“Show yourself!” Lord Arnos demanded more sharply, charging through the hanging branches towards them. Kurt spun the boy around and boosted him up, waiting for him to begin a panicked scramble up the wall before following suit. The boy hesitated at the top, but Kurt didn’t, shoving him over the edge and sliding down the ivy after him, the plant tearing at his ungloved hands.

 

He grabbed the boy’s hand in his own and tugged when the boy didn’t move on his own. “We have to run,” he said, voice wavering. “Please, we have to run  _now_.” He could hear Lord Arnos climbing up the ivy, but it was only as his head appeared over the top of the wall that the boy jerked into motion and Kurt was suddenly the one being pulled.

 

Running in the dark was dangerous, and Kurt nearly lost his footing several times, saved only by desperation and luck. The other boy seemed to have a destination in mind, which was more than Kurt did, so he allowed himself to be led.

 

“Where are we going?” Kurt finally panted out after several minutes of hard running. “Who was that? What’s going on?”

 

“That was my lord’s ambassador to Arnos being murdered to slow down negotiations,” the boy said flatly. “We’re going to the hangar where our airship is stored, and we are getting away from here. You have to come with me, I’m sorry.”

 

“I would really rather not stay here, actually, so no apology needed,” Kurt said. “I promised my father when I left home that I would _not_  die before returning home again, and I do intend to keep that promise.”

 

“Then I promise that I will not get you killed tonight,” the boy said seriously. “I’m Blaine.”

 

“Kurt.” Kurt followed him across the uneven ground for several breaths more, listening for the sound of pursuit and hearing nothing. Had they truly evaded Lord Arnos already? It was so dark that Kurt could barely see Blaine in front of him, much less anyone coming after them, and the night was far from quiet, with the sounds of the nearby settlements and wildlife beginning to stir for the night surrounding them. It was impossible to know if they were safe, and Kurt’s heart was pounding with fear and adrenaline.

 

When the blow came, it was from behind. A crushing weight struck Kurt on the side, flinging him into Blaine and then to the ground. He bounced hard, knocking all the breath still in his lungs out of them and lay there stunned, desperately trying to reorient himself.

 

“I’d apologize, but I don’t think I’ll regret this,” a far-off sounding voice said. A heavy weight dropped on top of him, and strong hands grabbed his throat, cutting off his air. “Wrong place, wrong time.”

 

~*~

 

Blaine wasn’t really sure what he had expected when he’d confronted the strange boy he’d been spying on, but he hadn’t thought that it would turn into running for his life from a power-mad despot as he clutched said boy’s hand.  _Kurt, his name is Kurt,_  he reminded himself.

 

Lady Edita was dead. The thought pounded at his skull and threatened to overtake him in a wave of panic. Lady Edita was dead, and Lord Arnos had disguised it as an accident, and if they were caught Blaine had no doubt that they too would suffer a mysterious venomous “bite”. He wasn’t sure whether to thank his lucky stars that he had found the room too stifling that first night, or to curse his own curiosity that had kept him returning to the menagerie night after night that he was there to witness Arnos’ treachery. He knew the truth, but it would be a small comfort if he died for it.

 

All they could do was keep moving. Lord Arnos was a trained soldier, strong and fast, and surely capable of killing the both of them before they knew it. Their only chance was to make the hanger. Blaine had never flown an airship without a much more experienced co-pilot before, but he knew the theory, and if they could make the air, all they would have to worry about was outrunning artillery.

 

Any hope he felt about their possibility of escape evaporated into the dark when Kurt was thrown bodily into him with a grunt. Blaine lost his balance and fell hard, rolling to try to absorb some of the impact and ending up sprawled across the ground.

 

Blaine regained his feet as quickly as he could, squinting to make out a heavy figure atop of Kurt, hands around his throat. For his part, Kurt was letting out tiny choked cries, his legs kicking uselessly, one hand scrabbling at Lord Arnos’ hands and the other hand jerking at his own belt.

 

Blaine carefully judged his kick and struck out, connecting squarely with Lord Arnos’ face. He reeled back, releasing Kurt’s throat, but Blaine had no time to celebrate his minor success before he had stood up and attacked Blaine instead.

 

He spared one glance for Kurt, unmoving but breathing raspily upon the ground, and then focused on defending himself. He was unarmed, and inexperienced, and all the boxing lessons in the world could not have prepared him for what it was like to have a man five inches taller and twenty years his senior attack him intending harm. It was only sheer dumb luck that saved him from the first flurry of blows, but instinct couldn’t help him when Arnos feinted low with his fist and sprung up to deliver a kick that glanced off Blaine’s shoulder and connected with the side of his head.

 

Blaine hit the ground hard, fireworks exploding behind his eyes and a roaring sound in his ears. The follow-up took him by surprise, a harsh blow to his side, and he tensed in anticipation of further pain. When none was forthcoming, he blinked until the sparks of light and colour cleared from his eyes to see Kurt, dimly outlined against the sky and backing away from Lord Arnos, who was writhing on the ground.

 

Kurt grabbed Blaine’s hand and pulled him up, his hand slick with something that smelled suspiciously like blood. “Kicked him in the groin and stabbed him in the back with my screwdriver,” he said in explanation, voice somehow calm despite the situation. “Which way?”

 

Blaine shook himself out of his shock and gestured. “Here,” he said. “It’s this way.”

 

~*~

 

The hangar was unguarded. Kurt followed Blaine as they crept towards the small side doors, the hairs on his arms standing straight up in terrified anticipation. Blaine slipped inside without incident, but Kurt stole one last glance around before he followed. The quiet was unnerving. Even at this time of night, a foreign dignitary’s transport should be guarded.  _Especially_  at this time of night, considering that it was about to be effectively stolen.

 

The hangar was silent. Though only dimly lit with gas lamps, the airship stood out clearly. A complex machine with multiple steam engines to provide the hot air that kept it aloft and powered the propellers that moved it, it resembled nothing natural as much as it did something called a whale that Kurt had seen in a book once.

 

Their footsteps echoed as they moved towards the main entrance, on the lower part of the rigid body. Kurt couldn’t help but examine the engines as they went, the familiarity of the machinery helping to slow his heart rate from what felt like “terrified jackrabbit” to “nervous jackrabbit”. Airships were calming, familiar, even if he’d never piloted one. Having a mechanist for a father meant that Kurt knew a lot about steam engines and machinery, though he didn’t particularly care about them.

 

He followed Blaine up the steps and into the familiar corridors of an Alexander-type airship. He turned down the narrow corridor to the engine access rooms out of habit, catching himself only after Blaine had turned back to look at him, silently questioning.

 

“My father works with airships and the like,” Kurt whispered. “I used to assist him. Old habits die hard, and all that.” Blaine nodded, looking vaguely surprised. “You didn’t think I was  _just_  a traveler, did you?” Kurt asked. “I have to get money somehow, and tinkering with people’s broken clocks and engines pays much better than singing on street corners, though I do that too.” They had reached the bridge, and Blaine busied himself with start up procedures.

 

“We’ll have to open the hangar doors at some point,” Blaine whispered. “Right after we start the engines. Lord Arnos will have alerted the guards by now though. We have to move fast.”

 

“I’ve never piloted,” Kurt admitted. “Have you?”

 

“Not alone, but I have,” Blaine said, his tone confident but his expression in the dim light betraying his nervousness. He flipped a switch and opened a panel, folding out a crank and beginning to turn it. After a few moments, the engines growled and sputtered, but faded immediately. Blaine looked up at Kurt, and Kurt cocked his head to the side.

 

“Do it again?” He thought he’d heard something important. Blaine obliged and Kurt nodded, taking off at a jog down the stairs to the engine room and lifting an access panel to reveal that several key parts of the engine had been removed. “Right. Well, um, at least we know why there were no guards. The ship’s been sabotaged.” Blaine’s mouth gaped open, and Kurt hastened to add, “Don’t worry! You’ve got me, after all. I won’t be able to get us up for long, not without these parts, but I can jury rig to at least get us far enough away that we’ll have a decent head start.”

 

He stripped off his jacket. Leopard David Martinez might have drooled on it, but it was still the nicest thing he owned, particularly now that he saw no way of retrieving his pack from where he’d stashed it, and he didn’t want it ruined. After brief consideration, he stripped off his vest as well, folding it into the jacket and leaving him in just his shirt sleeves. He dug into his tool pouch. “Give me, um, five minutes and then open the hangar doors. We’ll have to start the engines and start moving at the same time or they won’t stay running, so we don’t get another chance to test it.” Blaine stared at him, and Kurt felt a tiny surge of impatience. “Go!”

 

Blaine disappeared, and Kurt flipped his magnifying goggles down onto his face, peering at the damage as he tugged on long, thick leather gloves. Within minutes, he’d torn apart and reassembled enough of it that they would probably get at least one start of the engines, but he’d have to stay down in the engine rooms to keep it together as long as possible.

 

He heard the unmistakeable sound of hangar doors creaking open, and hurriedly made his last connection. The engines started with a sputter and what sounded like a minor explosion under a minute later, and Kurt tightened a connection that had nearly popped off with the stress.

 

The airship lurched forward indelicately the same instant, and Kurt was hard pressed to stay upright. The propulsion engine puttered to life at the same time, conveyors starting around the room as coal shook down from hoppers onto them to be fed into the engines. The temperature began to rise quickly, but Kurt had only a mind for holding the engine together as long as possible.

 

“Blaine!” he shouted into the speaking tube that would carry his voice to the bridge, straining to be heard. “Keep her low, we’re probably looking at a crash landing!”

 

“Got it!” he heard faintly over the sounds of the engines. “I’m going to take off now, we’ve got company outside. Hold onto something.”

 

The airship lurched again, and Kurt felt his stomach swoop with the familiar sickening sensation of takeoff. The engines chugged harder and faster, steam releasing into the room and obscuring the lamps, but the red glow of the fires was still clearly visible and they were in the air now, and hopefully safer than they had been.

 

“Better a fiery crash or choked to death?” Kurt asked himself rhetorically. Even if the engines would probably not explode when they failed, there was enough fuel down here that a misplaced ember could create a fireball. He was distracted from his thoughts of fire when his throat chose that moment to remind him that just because they were fleeing for their lives didn’t mean that he got to ignore all his injuries, and he tugged off a glove to rub gently at it where he had been choked. It would surely bruise.

 

A sharp  _ping_  of metal on metal as something broke in the engine reminded him that he still had a job to do, but inspection revealed that there was nothing he could do about the piece of metal that had released under pressure except bang it into place and hope for the best. His hands were still stained green and slightly raw from the slide down the ivy, and one was quickly becoming black with grease as well since he hadn’t put his glove back on before grabbing his wrench. Kurt curled his lip in distaste and wiped his hand off as well as he could on a rag. His hand was still filthy, and he cringed at the thought of getting oil all over the inside of his gloves, but the risk of burns made his choice for him and he pulled the glove back on.

 

“How are we up top?” he shouted into the pipe again. It was purely out of a sense of morbid curiosity that he wanted to know if they were going to be shot down, he told himself. It wasn’t because he was scared and stressed and wanted to hear a friendly voice to take his mind off the fact that if the engine went up he’d likely go with it. Kurt shuddered.

 

“We’re getting some distance!” Blaine shouted back. “There was artillery, and it was close, but I think we’re out of range now. Are you okay?”

 

A bolt popped off its screw and launched into the roof, denting the metal frame and ricocheting back to the floor. Steam began to vent from the gap and the engines groaned as the turbines began to lose power. “Been better!” Kurt squawked. “Keep it low, we might not have much longer!” He snatched one of the wrenches out of his tool pouch and carefully picked his way across the room, fighting every instinct he had that told him to run.  _Slow and careful_ , his dad’s voice echoed.  _Mechanists get killed rushing, kid. Don’t be one of them_.

 

Kurt opened the relief valve, redirecting the stream of steam back to the turbines through an alternate route. The release of steam choked off, but the room was now burning hot and damp. Kurt made his way over to the outside vent and pried it off, pushing his face up against the influx of fresh air, cold against his skin when compared to the atmosphere inside the engine room.

 

They were above trees, the lights of Arnos disappearing into the night. They had enough distance that even if they couldn’t make it much farther, it was possible that they would be able to evade pursuit. The engines were making ominous creaking sounds, and Kurt didn’t think they’d be gaining much more against the risk of the engines stalling and them crashing hard if they stayed in the air. He was just turning to head back across the room to suggest to Blaine that they find a place to set down when the world blew up and everything went black.

 

~*~

 

The explosion rocked the ship, throwing Blaine against the wheel and then to the floor. The explosions ceased suddenly, replaced by crackling fire.  _The coal_ , a tiny voice whispered in Blaine’s head. _It’s the coal burning_.

 

They were going down quickly, losing what little altitude they had, but Blaine knew it was useless to steer. The engines were gone, and the steering with it.

 

The airship skimmed the treetops, trees bending and breaking with shudders and cracks. Blaine could only brace himself against the wheel to prevent himself from being thrown about like a rag doll, and even then, he had only seconds before the ship reached ground with an impact that flung him flat to the floor and bounced him. There was an enormous splash and hiss, and steam rose all around him as he lay there, unable to move.

 

They had hit water, Blaine dully registered. They had hit water, and the engines were in the lower part of the ship, as was the coal storage, so the fires were out. There was no harm in laying here, just until he found his breath again. And maybe until it stopped hurting.

 

“Mmmm,” he said, rolling his tongue around his mouth. Okay, that was not quite what he meant to say. “Mnrgh,” he tried. Still not right. Blaine pushed himself over onto his side and smacked his lips together, raising a hand to them to make sure they were still on his face.

 

“Owwww,” he said. Progress, at least. He’d definitely meant to say that. Except there was something important he was forgetting. The feeling niggled at him as his head cleared, and the realization “the engines are underwater” suddenly meant something else. The engines were underwater, and Kurt had been in the engine room when it exploded.

 

Adrenaline pushed Blaine upright and over to the console to the speaking tubes. “Kurt?  _Kurt_? Can you hear me?” His only answer was the sound of water gurgling in the pipe.

 

Blaine stumbled over to the door, cursing his uncooperative feet as he nearly tripped and fell down the narrow staircase. There wasn’t room for mistakes, not when he’d already wasted so much time and Kurt could already be dead.

 

He heard the water flowing into the ship before he saw it, and was wading by the time he reached the lower levels. “Kurt?” he called again. Maybe he’d gotten out before the explosion, been stunned by the shockwave. Maybe he wasn’t down there. But Blaine somehow knew that he was, that he hadn’t expected an explosion.

 

Blaine took a deep breath when he reached the last stairs to the engines. They were fully submerged, and even if the lamps had survived the crash, they would not have survived the flood. The stairs were dark and ominous, the water uneasily warm with the heat from the hot metal of the airship that it had quenched, and Blaine both didn’t want to go down there and needed to. He had promised Kurt that he wouldn’t get him killed, but even if he hadn’t, leaving an innocent person to die went against everything he stood for.

 

Blaine slipped down into the water without hesitation, pulling himself down the stairs by the rail, and emerged into the engine room, the machinery eerie in the dark.

 

The metal of the walls was blackened where coal had struck it, and scarred by divots where pieces of engine appeared to have been launched into it by the explosion. Blaine scanned the room, water swirling in a current and stirring up particles.

 

A hand stuck out from underneath a large chunk of engine. Blaine pushed off the wall and drove himself toward it, grabbing a hold of the metal and jerking it off of Kurt’s –intact and attached to the rest of him, thankfully- arm.

 

He was unconscious, limp and unhelpful as Blaine wrapped his arms around his chest and tugged him towards a hole in the side of the ship. Not dead. He wasn’t dead. But Blaine’s lungs burned with the need for air, and Kurt had been underwater for so much longer.

 

With one last kick, they were through the hole and rising quickly to the surface. Blaine gasped in a breath and hiked Kurt up in his arms, holding his head high above the water line. They were in a lake, the shoreline only about twenty yards away, but it felt an insurmountable distance when weighed against the heaviness in Blaine’s limbs. He fumbled with what to do with Kurt’s limp body for a moment before he simply turned over onto his back and rested him against his chest, kicking for shore. Kurt was still, his face just a pale smudge in the darkness and his features indistinguishable, but Blaine had both arms about his chest and could tell that he was not breathing. He forced out a last burst of strength, dragging Kurt up the shore and flipping him over to lie face down.

 

His classes at the academy had been extensive, but panic was forcing the lessons out his mind. He vaguely remembered that the drowned person could be saved if they were startled into breathing again by sharp blows, and in desperation struck Kurt in the back before he thought better of it. He flipped Kurt over again, and a faint, watery cough was his only warning before Kurt seized up in a violent wretch that spewed water.

 

Kurt drew in a sobbing, painful sounding breath, and coughed hard again, bringing up more water. He doubled over in Blaine’s arms, breaking in a fits of coughs interspersed with sobs. He only fell silent after long minutes of choking gasps, going limp again in Blaine’s grasp, his raspy breathing the only indication he was alive.

 

Blaine rolled Kurt off of his lap. They were surely being pursued, and they couldn’t stay here. The lake lapped at Blaine’s feet as he tried to force himself upright. He made it to a half-standing position before stars erupted in front of his eyes and he found himself seated again. His second effort was even less successful. The adrenaline rush was disappearing and every injury he’d taken, however minor, made itself known at once. He flopped over onto his side helplessly and pressed his palm into the gravel. He couldn’t move, could barely breathe. His head pounded at him, his chest and back ached.

 

His eyes slid shut of their own volition, and Blaine jerked them open again. Kurt was perfectly still beside him save for the shuddering up and down motion of his breathing, and Blaine knew that there was no way he could move him, not when he couldn’t even sit up, but he could not leave him either.

 

The eastern sky was lighting up with the first signs of dawn, but the northern sky showed no signs of pursuit. All Blaine could do was hope that Arnos hadn’t got a good read on their bearing, that they would have to search for the crash site and they had time to get away yet.

 

The wind blew, and Blaine shivered. He shuffled along the ground to huddle up behind Kurt, slowly dragging an arm over his waist. Kurt was wearing only a thin shirt, and if Blaine was cold, he would be colder. He cast one last vain glance at the shelter that the woods would provide, and surrendered to sleep.

 

~*~

 

Kurt awoke to the sun beating down on his face and a distinct inability to move. His limbs felt as though he’d been strapped to the ground, and despite the discomfort of the surface he was laying on, he stayed limp as a rug atop it. His chest  _burned_  like he’d felt only once before, during a childhood illness, and his throat felt as though someone had rubbed the inside of it with sandpaper.

 

He cast his thoughts back. What had happened? He remembered running, fighting, being choked... and an airship. The engines had exploded. By rights, he should be dead.

 

They shouldn’t have exploded. He’d set up the engine so that it should have failed by venting steam. The pressure release valves must have been damaged. Or else they had been tampered with as well.

 

The sun was  _hot_. Kurt pulled his eyes open, his eyelashes crusted together by something disgusting, and immediately had to shut them again at the way the light lanced painfully through his eyes. He didn’t even want to think about what his skin must look like. He flicked his tongue out to wet his lips, and even his  _lips_  tasted disgusting what had he done to deserve this.

 

He tried again to lift one arm and succeeded, though only slightly, just enough to brush against another arm wrapped about his middle. An arm that  _did not belong to him get it off get it off_. Kurt thrashed, but lingering weakness meant that the arm might as well be a vice for how easily he could escape it. Kurt stilled, his breathing pained and quick and his head pounding out a symphony at his temples, as a small groan came from behind him and the arm tightened.

 

“Kurt? You awake?” the voice was vaguely familiar, but it still took Kurt several seconds of processing to connect it to Blaine, slightly raspy and slurred as it was. “I have the worst headache of my  _life_.”

 

“Me...me too,” Kurt forced out, surprised at the state of his voice. He sounded like an old man, which was quite an accomplishment, considering his normal timber.

 

“Not dead though!” Blaine said with forced cheer, rather ruined by the pitiful moan he followed it up with. Kurt elected not to answer, instead squeezing his eyes tighter shut and relaxing again, the urge to sleep stealing over him. Blaine shifted his arm, his hand swiping across Kurt’s belly as he pulled it back. “Kurt?” he asked. “Kurt, are you alright?”

 

Kurt ignored him, and his calls got quieter quickly as he spiraled back down into sleep, his aches disappearing with his consciousness.

 

~*~

 

When he awoke again, the pain was less and it was dark. He opened his eyes to see Blaine staring up into the sky from a seated position, looking calm and peaceful. “Blaine?” he whispered. Blaine jerked and looked down at him, laying a cool careful hand across his forehead.

 

“Hey. You look like you’re back with me this time. Are you feeling better?”

 

“I think so,” Kurt said. “I’m not sure what happened.”

 

“The engine room blew up, and we crashed into a lake,” Blaine said quickly. “You almost drowned, but you didn’t, but then you got really sick anyway, so we’ve been hiding out here for three days. Do you remember?”

 

Kurt cocked an eyebrow. Three days, and he had no recollection of it. “No,” he said finally. “I mean, some vague blurs, I think I remember you talking, but that’s it.”

 

“It’s probably for the best,” Blaine said. “I was in pretty rough shape that first day too, and let’s just say that it was not pretty when I finally tried to drag you away from the lakeshore.”

 

“What?” Kurt asked. “What about the lakeshore?”

 

“Well, you didn’t want to come, but you were too weak to stop me, so you were just making these tiny pathetic sounds the entire time I was dragging you. It didn’t really help my headache.” Blaine smiled and drug a hand through his curls. “I’ve had lots of time to salvage from the airship though! We’ve got food and water and clothing, even if we don’t have a transport anymore.” He paused like he was waiting for Kurt to respond, and Kurt summoned up an encouraging smile. “Now that you’re better though, we need to go. It doesn’t seem like anyone’s looking for us, but my lord will take my word about the circumstances of Lady Edita’s death over Lord Arnos’ any day, and if he is looking for us, we’ll be safe there.”

 

“You have this all planned out,” Kurt whispered.

 

“I’ve had a lot of time to think,” Blaine said, then took a closer look at Kurt and backtracked. “Should I not have assumed that you would want to come? I’m sorry, I just thought, maybe that safety in numbers would be a good idea. Not that we actually have numbers, but you know what I mean.”

 

“I do,” Kurt said. “I owe you my life. I’ll make sure you get home safe.”

 

Blaine looked upset. “I’m the reason your life was ever in danger though. We never should have gone for the airships. You don’t need to make any kind of promise to me.”

 

“I’m perfectly capable of making my own bad decisions, Blaine, you didn’t put my life in danger any more than I did yours. Plus, I seem to remember that you promised to protect my life first, and here I am, not dead.” Blaine looked at him, distress in his eyes. Kurt sighed and tried a different tack. “Blaine. I’m a traveler. Traveling is what I do. I’m going to travel to wherever you’re from next, would you care to join me?”

 

“You’ll be safer if you’re not with me, Lord Arnos has no idea who you are, but he knows exactly who I am, and-”

 

“Blaine,” Kurt said. “I’m traveling to your hometown next. Would you like to come along? I could use some company on the road.” Blaine smiled suddenly and broadly at that for an instant, but then formed his mouth into a serious line and held out his hand.

 

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “I’m not sure I would’ve made it on my own.” Kurt reached out and took it, clasping as tightly as he could.

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Kurt said. “Just remember that I’m going with you because I want to help you, not because you coerced me into it, and that if I had managed to steal away Leopard David Martinez, I would certainly not be here. He and I would already be famous, I think. I had a pretty solid plan.”

 

“His name is Spotty, though,” Blaine said. “Why are you calling him Leopard David Martinez?”

 

“That is spoken like someone who has both never named an animal and never met human David Martinez,” Kurt said knowingly. “He’s the embodiment of everything that’s ever gone right in the world.”

 

“Sounds like quite a guy,” Blaine said, smiling. “Too bad he’s not here, we probably could use his help to fix the airship.”

 

“If David Martinez was here, he could’ve held the engines together with his bare hands,” Kurt informed him haughtily. “We would be wherever we’re going by now. Which actually brings me to my main question right now. Where are we going?”

 

“A city called Anders. Have you been there?” Kurt shook his head. The name was completely unfamiliar to him. “It’s a nice place. You’ll like it.”

 

“Sounds like it, from all the details you’re dumping on me,” Kurt joked.

 

“You better believe it,” Blaine said. “It’s not so far by airship, but I think it’s pretty far by foot. We’re going to get to know each other inside and out by the time we get there.”

 

“That’s not so bad,” Kurt said. “I’ve missed spending time with people I actually know. We’ll be just fine. Friends, even.” He realized suddenly that he hadn’t let go of Blaine’s hand yet, and released his grip as quickly as he could, withdrawing his hand to his own lap and blushing furiously.

 

“Good,” Blaine said quietly, “I could use a friend.” He reached out and patted Kurt’s hand awkwardly, smiling when Kurt met his eye. “I mean, I’m not leopard David Martinez, but I’ll do my best.”

 

“Upon further reflection,” Kurt said airily. “I’ve decided that people are possibly better companions, on the whole. I don’t think leopard David Martinez could have kept me from dying while I was delirious. You’ll do just fine, I think.”

 

“Oh, well thank you for the vote of confidence,” Blaine joked. “I’ll do my best to live up to it.”

 

Kurt looked up and caught Blaine’s eye. “So will I,” he said seriously. “Friends?” He held his hand out one more time, and the clap of Blaine’s hand in his rang out like a promise.

 

“Friends.”

 

~*~

 

End

After this, they go off and have adventures and eventually fall in ~love. With each other. And possibly David Martinez, who, contrary to Kurt’s belief, is super flattered that someone thought he was awesome enough to name a big cat after him.


End file.
